A Helping Hand (Or Three)
by TantalumCobolt
Summary: Liam is still having trouble with control on the full moon so Stiles and Lydia help him fake sick to get out of school. (a.k.a the one where Scott is busy doing 'Alpha stuff' so the rest of the pack band together to help their youngest beta.)
If Scott is Liam's alpha, then Stiles is the sometimes-annoying-mostly-helpful big brother you don't realise you have until they do something drastic like bail you out of jail (which he didn't do, but it was a close call). And since Stiles is big brother, that would make Lydia the equally-as-awesome(-but-sometimes-more-awesome) big sister.

And that, Lydia supposes, is how they came to be in this situation. It would make sense that Stiles was Liam's first port of call when he started having problems with control, especially since their youngest beta had developed a philosophy of 'must not disappoint Scott in any way even if the problem is perfectly reasonable'. And if Stiles is Liam's first port of call then Lydia is Stiles'.

So here they are.

Lydia surveys the young beta with critical eyes. He's sitting hunched over on one of the benches in the locker room, eyes glowing gold and fingernails (claws) digging into the palms of his tightly clenched hands.

"Focus on me," Stiles murmurs, tilting his head to make eye contact with Liam from where he's kneeling in front of the beta. "Let my voice be your anchor, Liam. Just focus on my voice and try to calm down, okay?"

Lydia watches as Liam takes a deep breath and when his hands uncurl slightly she winces at the deep crescent gashes that are slowly oozing blood even as they begin to heal. The golden glow of his eyes fades to their usual blue and she bites back a sigh of relief. She's not sure what they would have done if he hadn't been able to control the shift; a banshee and a human are no match for an angry, full-moon-fuelled werewolf.

"Where's Scott?" Liam asks a moment later, voice slightly gravelly as he forces the wolf back.

Stiles glances at Lydia. She rolls her eyes but answers anyway with a gentle "Not here. I think he went to see Deaton about... Alpha stuff."

Keeping track of Scott really isn't her priority so Lydia just shrugs it off when Stiles raises an amused eyebrow in her direction.

Liam grits his teeth, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he hunches over. He makes a sound somewhere between a whine and a groan in the back of his throat and Lydia's heart goes out to the young wolf (she's not a complete ice queen, okay?). She steps forward to lay a hand on his shoulder even as Stiles squeezes his knee, continuing to murmur words like "easy" and "focus" while Liam tries to regain control.

"He can't be here," Lydia says to Stiles even as her hand moves of it's own accord to rub circles on Liam's back. "Not if he can't control it."

"I know," Stiles replies (and it's not a snap but his voice is so tightly controlled it may as well be). "What do you propose we do though, Lydia? We can't exactly up and leave halfway through school since neither of us has a car."

The redhead concedes that he's right (as per usual, she's beginning to realise). Stiles' jeep is actually sitting in her driveway with a flat battery, blocking her own car in, from when he's stayed over last night (not like that - they were studying!). Since they'd needed to be in early for a group project anyway, the two teens had just caught a lift with Lydia's mum. Now, though, Lydia is regretting not finding a way to tow the jeep and get her own car out because the only other way to get Liam out is if-

"His parents," she blurts, realisation hitting like a brick to the face. "If he's sick they'll have to call his parents to come pick him up."

Stiles blinks at her. "That would be brilliant except for the little fact that _he's not sick -_ he's a freakin' _werewolf!_ " he exclaims. "Not to mention the fact that his parents are probably working and won't be able to get off so they'll just keep him in the nurse's office - which will not only get us caught out because they'll realise he isn't sick, but with our shitty luck he'll turn into a full fledged werewolf and rip everyone to shreds!"

Lydia plants her hands on her hips. At some point during his rant, Stiles had stood up and when Lydia steps forward they're suddenly toe-to-toe. "Well don't let me hold you back from sharing your own brilliant solution to our predicament," she hisses.

"We could-"

Lydia never does find out what Stiles' proposes they do because Liam takes that moment to let them know he's regained control by interrupting the conversation (cough-argument-cough).

"My step-dad isn't working today," the beta says, head swivelling comically as he looks between Stiles and Lydia. "He could come pick me up."

Lydia claps her hands together. "Great! Problem solved."

She resists the urge to shoot Stiles a smug look even as the human rolls his eyes at her.

"There's still the little matter of him not actually being sick," Stiles points out.

Now it's Lydia's turn to roll her eyes. Does she really have to do all the metaphorical heavy lifting around here? (Not the actual heavy lifting, of course; that's reserved for the were-whatever members of their ragtag pack.)

"I highly doubt this will be his first time faking sick." She turns to the beta. "Right, Liam?"

"Uh..." Liam still doesn't really look sure of what's happening, but he nods in answer to her question. "No?"

Stiles looks thoughtful, running a hand through his short hair, which only makes the unruly spikes stick up even more than usual. "And werewolves run hotter than humans, which will help because we won't need to fake a fever..."

With the threat of imminent danger past and the beginnings of a plan underway, Lydia leaves Stiles to figure out the details while she turns her attention to Liam. Now that she's really looking at him, she notices the bags under his eyes and the way his shoulders sag slightly even as he lifts his head to look at her. Lydia knows he was having nightmares after the berserkers, but she thought Scott had said he'd gotten over that...

(Although, having established hat Liam doesn't tell Scott everything...)

"You okay, pup?" she asks, voice deliberately low so that Stiles doesn't hear from where he's now rummaging through his backpack on the other side of the locker room. No need to involve big brother if it's a problem big sister can help with. "You look tired."

He looks exhausted, actually.

Liam ducks his head to hide what she suspects is the beginning of a blush creeping up his neck. "I'm fine," he mutters. "Didn't sleep well last night is all. Impending full moon and all y'know?"

Lydia suspects it's more than that but she just nods and squeezes his shoulder. She can grill him later; when they're not all stressed because of the full moon and trying to break him out of school.

Stiles returns, triumphantly waving a piece of paper above his head. "Note to leave class," he explains with a grin. "I knew I had one somewhere from about a month ago so I just changed my name to Liam's and fixed the date to today."

Liam takes the note gingerly, biting his lip even as he folds it carefully in half and shoves it in his hoodie pocket. "What if they don't believe me?" he asks, worried eyes locking onto Stiles then flickering towards Lydia. "What do I do then? I can't go back to class if I can't control the shift."

Stiles just waves off his concern (literally waves it off with a flick of his wrist. Honestly, how insensitive can he be?). "Relax, pup - you'll be fine. I used to fake sick all the time when I didn't want to sit through Harris' boring lectures on covalent bonds or whatever other dull topic he'd chosen to prattle on about."

Lydia snorts. "Only because he always found a way to give you detention whenever you actually showed up to class."

Liam smilles (even if it is faint) at their bickering and stands up. "So you're sure this'll work?"

Lydia rolls her eyes; now it's just getting ridiculous. She picks up her handbag and passes Liam his own backpack, glancing over her shoulder to share an amused (fond) look with Stiles as she ushers the beta out of the room ahead of her.

"Come on, pup," she says. "I'll take you, okay? That'll make it more convincing."

Liam looks relieved at that and doesn't protest when Lydia slips an arm around his shoulders (for acting purposes obviously), even leaning slightly into her side. They split off from Stiles at his locker and continue down the hallway to the nurse's office.

"Just remember to stay in control and look sick," the banshee mutters in the beta's ear when they pause outside the door. "Let me do most of the talking, okay?"

Liam nods quickly, then turns the knob and pushes the door open. Nurse Halloway - a plump, elderly woman who gives off more mother vibes than anyone else Lydia knows - looks up when they stumble in (well, Liam stumbles; Lydia is the epitome of gracefulness thank you very much and would _never_ stoop to such lows as to _stumble_ ).

"What's the matter dears?" the Nurse asks, lifting herself from her chair to come around the desk when Lydia deposits Liam onto one of the hard plastic waiting chairs.

The young werewolf plays his part well; wrapping one arm around his stomach and letting his head fall back against the wall as he seems to curl in on himself in the chair. Content that he won't give the game away, Lydia turns to Nurse Halloway with her best wide-eyed 'concerned friend' look.

"He said he wasn't feeling well earlier but he didn't want to miss his history test so I let him go to class but I probably should have just brought him straight here," she explains, letting just the right amount of worry seep into her voice. "I think he has a fever and he was complaining about a sore stomach at recess. He didn't say anything about nausea earlier but he just threw up so I think it might be a stomach bug?"

The nurse nods along to Lydia's faux-worried rambling, pulling around her own chair to sit in front of Liam while Lydia takes a seat in the chair beside him. The beta grimaces as he shifts in the uncomfortable chair, letting his head come to rest on the banshee's shoulder.

"How long have you been feeling sick?" Nurse Halloway asks Liam.

"Since this morning," he mumbles convincingly. "Didn' wanna miss the test though."

The nurse asks him how exactly he's feeling - "nauseous an' my stomach hurts an' I've got a bit of a headache" - then checks his temperature - "just under 100° which isn't that worrying but we'll give you some Tylenol okay?" - before sending him to lie down in one of the beds while she calls his parents. Lydia continues to hover; guiding Liam into the dormitory-style room beyond the front office with a hand on his back, then settling into a chair beside the bed as he lies down and pulls the covers up to his neck.

"Don't you have class, Miss Martin?" Nurse Halloway asks sternly when she comes back into the room.

Lydia gives her sweetest smile (the one that always convinces unsuspecting adults). "No, I already had my only class for the day but I didn't want to go home without making sure Liam was okay."

Nurse Halloway purses her lips. "All the same I'd rather you didn't disturb my patient," she says with a glance at Liam. "But I suppose you can stay until his stepfather arrives if Mr Dunbar doesn't mind?"

It takes Liam a second to realise it's a question directed at him but he nods hurriedly before the nurse can kick Lydia out. Nurse Halloway looks resigned to the decision but she doesn't say anything further as she sets a glass of water and two pills on the bedside table then returns to the front desk when the phone begins to ring, calling a "your step-dad will be here in twenty minutes" over her shoulder as she leaves.

Once they're alone in the dim lighting, Lydia flicks on a lamp and opens her biology textbook, figuring she may as well get some of her homework done while they wait. It's only when she glances up five minutes later that she realises Liam's eyes are glowing golden as he watches her. She immediately snaps the textbook shut, setting it aside and leaning forward to grip his shoulder beneath the blanket.

"Liam?" she asks sotto voce, eyes darting to the doorway to make sure they're not going to be interrupted.

"Yeah?"

"Your eyes," she hisses. "Your eyes are yellow."

Liam bolts upright, alarm overtaking his features as he holds his hands in front of his face to make sure no claws have appeared. They haven't, thank goodness, but the beta's panic doesn't abate because he closes his eyes and breathes deeply but they don't stop glowing.

"Calm down," Lydia orders quietly, reaching for his arms so that he has some kind of grounding contact. "You need to calm down and concentrate, okay Liam? Just focus on me like you were with Stiles earlier. Listen to my voice and do as I say; deep breath in... and out... And again. In. Out."

A tense minute later and Liam's eyes fade back to their usual clear blue. He takes a shaky breath and Lydia becomes aware that he's trembling. Another breath and she become aware that tears are glistening in his (thankfully human) eyes.

"Oh, Liam," Lydia murmurs, perching on the edge of the bed and wrapping both arms around his shoulders to pull him into a hug. He doesn't break down and cry or anything else that could be potentially embarrassing, but his hands come up to cling to the fabric at the back of her dress and his uneven breathing is warm against her neck.

"I can't do this," Liam whispers into her shoulder.

Just like earlier, Lydia begins to rub soothing circles on his back, fingernails scratching lightly at the nape of his neck. "Can't do what?" she whispers back.

"Be a werewolf."

Lydia prides herself on her ability to always know what to say or do no matter the situation, but right now her mind is blank. She continues to absently pet the distressed boy in her arms while she racks her mind for something - anything - to say.

"I thought I was going crazy," she settles on. "When I started showing up at crime scenes with no idea how I got there, and when I'd wake myself up screaming in the middle of the night with no memory of what I'd been dreaming about." She chuckles derisively. "Everyone else thought I was crazy too. Most people still do, actually."

Liam pulls back, trying to be subtle about wiping the tears from his still watery eyes. "You learnt to control it though."

 _Not exactly,_ Lydia thinks, but what she says is; "You will too."

By the time that Nurse Halloway shows Liam's step-dad into the room, Lydia is back in the bedside chair with her textbook open in her lap and a highlighter between her teeth and Liam is curled up under the blanket; looking every inch the pathetic sick teenage boy. (Lydia is seriously considering getting some pointers from him for the next time she needs to fake sick to get out of something; the kid is a pro!)

"Not feeling well, buddy?" Dr Geyer asks, reaching out to lay a hand on Liam's forehead as parents are wont to do when their kid claims to be sick.

Liam uncurls slightly to peer up at his step-dad with tired eyes. "I jus' wanna go home."

(He's even perfected the balance between whining and mumbling that usually accompanies sickness; consider Lydia suitably impressed.)

"I think we can do that." Dr Gyer smiles. "Why don't you get your gear together while I sign you out? And then we'll get you home and into bed."

Liam rolls his eyes as soon as his step-dad and the nurse are out of the room, throwing off the blankets and tugging his shoes on. "You'd think he'd be harder to fool since he's a doctor," he mutters to Lydia and she bites back a snicker. "But all it really takes is a little moaning and groaning, maybe a 'daddy please' or two, and he turns into a giant gullible teddy bear."

"I think it's the 'mother me' vibes," she offers, sliding her homework into her bag and brushing the imaginary creases from her dress as she stands.

Liam just looks at her blankly. Lydia smiles, reaching out to ruffle his hair when he ducks his head to tie his shoelaces (just because she knows it irritates him). Then she picks up his backpack and hooks it over her shoulder.

"You give off a ridiculous amount of 'mother me' vibes," she elaborates. "It makes people want to take care of you. I imagine that even your step-father isn't immune."

Liam tilts his head; the action making him look almost exactly like a curious puppy. "Is that why you and Stiles act the way you do? Y'know, all caring and stuff?"

Is it? Honestly; Lydia isn't even sure anymore. At first it was because Liam had been thrown into the supernatural world with no warning and no clue what to do. It had seemed that becoming a werewolf wasn't the gift Derek claimed it was for Liam, so Stiles and Lydia had gone with their natural instinct to help their friends (and when did Liam become a friend anyway?) and done everything they could to be there for the young beta.

Unsure how to answer Liam's question, Lydia just shrugs and rests a hand on his shoulder to guide him as they wander out to where his step-dad is waiting (they have a facade to keep up after all). Lydia hands Liam's backpack to his step-father and wishes the obligatory "feel better soon" as they part ways outside the nurse's office.

She texts Stiles and isn't surprised to find him waiting by her locker when she gets there.

"Any problems?" he asks while Lydia rummages around in her locker for a mythology book she's sure she'd left in there.

"Nope," she replies, deciding to keep Liam's near-breakdown just between the two of them. "Let me tell you though; that kid is a damn good actor. They didn't suspect a thing."

Stiles nods, fingers running through his hair. "Good. That's good. I'll drop by after school with his homework and figure out a way to sneak him out so we can chain him up or something."

Having found the book, Lydia closes her locker and turns to face her non-supernatural pack mate. "We should do something for him," she decides. "Not sure what though. Maybe have a 'welcome to the pack' movie night slash party or something?"

Stiles turns to her as they begin walking towards the library. "A bit late for that don't you think?"

Lydia just gives him a look. "It's never too late for a party."

Liam is busy pretending to be asleep when he hears the tell-take creak of his bedroom window opening. He immediately sits up, a "really, Scott, I'm fine, you didn't need to come" or a "Stiles didn't have to tell you, I've got it under control" on his lips.

It's not Scott though. It's not even Stiles or Lydia (though he can't imagine Lydia climbing in through his window anyway). It's Malia.

The werecoyote arches an eyebrow, managing to look both amused and seriously unimpressed as she plops down on the end of his bed. For several long seconds they just stare at each other.

"Stiles told me," Malia eventually opens with. "I came immediately. Don't worry, your dad didn't see me."

Of all the things Liam could and should say, the first thing that comes out of his mouth is a half-hearted "He's not my dad."

The werecoyote tilts her head. "Step-dad. Whatever. Does it even matter?"

It doesn't really and Liam feels heat crawl up his neck at how childish the correction makes him seem. He's already the youngest in the pack; there's no need to add 'daddy issues' to the list of reasons everyone else feels the need to baby him.

"Why are you here?" Liam asks when the silence begins to stretch to awkward levels.

Malia gives him a look that just screams 'isn't it obvious?' (he suspects she learnt it from Peter). "You're having trouble with control. I'm here to help."

And that just doesn't make sense. "But _why?_ Why are you all so obsessed with helping me? Scott's the alpha; isn't that his job? How come the rest of you care so much?"

The werecoyote looks almost hurt at that (yeah definitely not a face she learnt from Peter). "You're pack," she says simply. As if that explains it all. (In another world, a world where Liam actually understands half the supernatural shit that goes on, it probably does.) "Besides," she continues. "Scott's busy doing Alpha stuff."

That's another thing Liam doesn't get; can someone please explain to him what the hell 'alpha stuff' even is?! Every time another of his pack mate's show up to offer their own special brand of help they routinely quote that their absent alpha is busy doing 'Alpha stuff'. At this point, Liam isn't sure if it's a joke or an innuendo or something else entirely.

(The little smirks and amused glances the older pack members share whenever they say it doesn't help his confusion. It just makes him feel like they're having a lend of him.)

"So do you want help or not?" Malia asks. She grows impatient with lounging on the end of Liam's bed and paces over to the bookshelf beside his desk, perusing the titles with the air one who has all the time in the world.

(She doesn't. She has to be back at school in an hour and a half, but there's no need for Liam to know that.)

(And so what if she's a little late to math?)

Liam's gaze darts over to his bedroom door and when he looks back at Malia her eyes are laughing at him. They flash blue before fading back to their human chocolate brown.

"Step one," the werecoyote drawls. "Don't fight your senses; use them. You're worried your step-dad will walk in on us? Just listen for his heartbeat or his footsteps and you'll know as soon as he comes towards the stairs." She waves a lazy hand in the direction of his wardrobe. "Then I can hide or whatever."

Liam nods. (A part of him feels like he should be taking notes.)

"Step two," Malia continues. "You need an anchor. Do you have one?"

Liam bites his lip. "Scott suggested I use my anger."

"And how's that working for you?"

The amusement in Malia's tone irks Liam. He knows he's younger them all, that he's inexperienced, that he's the 'puppy' of the pack (and is that even an official werewolf thing? Or are Lydia and Stiles just having him on?), but that doesn't mean he's stupid. And even if he was, Malia's tone makes it pretty damn clear that she's wondering why he's having so much trouble with this.

"It's not," Liam grits out. A part of him knows his eyes are flashing gold and he can feel his claws digging into his clenched fists, but he can't make himself stop. He can't control it.

Malia doesn't look at all concerned. "Then find a new one," she says lightly. Then, almost as a second thought; "And calm down."

Liam takes a deep breath, holding it and counting to ten the way Stiles and Lydia told him to earlier in the locker room, before releasing the air slowly.

 _"Control your airflow," Stiles had said. "If you can control your breathing you can control your heartbeat. And then you can control your shift."_

It sounded so easy when Stiles said it like that (everything always does). It hadn't been that easy for Liam though (it never is). Even repeating the almost-mantra as he held his breath, counted to ten, then let it out, it had taken a good five minutes before he'd felt like he wasn't about to lose control at the drop of a hat.

"Good," Malia's voice is quieter (closer) and Liam's eyes snap open to find her siting on the end of his bed again. "Just in time too. Your step-dad's coming."

Liam tilts his head, focusing his hearing, and realises she's right; the distinctive squeak of his step-dad's shoes are half-way up the stairs. The next few seconds are a flurry of movement as Malia darts into his wardrobe and Liam lies down, hurriedly pulling the covers up to his neck and closing his eyes in feigned sleep. Not two seconds later his bedroom door opens.

"Liam?" Dr Geyer calls softly. "You awake?"

Liam focuses on keeping his breathing deep and even as the footsteps carry his step-dad into the room and over to the bed. He almost gives the game away when a hand is pressed against his forehead, sucking in a sharp breath of surprise. He plays it off by shifting in his 'sleep', burrowing down in the pillows, praying that his step-dad buys it.

"Fever feels worse," Dr Geyer mutters to himself.

 _Almost shifting into a full-fledged werewolf will do that to you,_ Liam thinks bitterly.

The hand moves to brush through Liam's hair before drawing away. The footsteps recede and then the door clicks shut as Dr Geyer steps into the hallway.

"Could have sworn I heard voices," Liam hears him mutter as he heads back downstairs. "I'll have to ask if he sleep talks."

Malia is already out of the wardrobe when Liam emerges from his blanket cocoon. She's looking at him with a strange expression; a mixture of wonder, amusement and something calculating.

"What?" Liam asks, feeling immediately defensive.

The werecoyote just gives him a crooked grin. "Lydia said you were a good actor."

Liam opens his mouth to retort because he- _wait, what?_

Malia doesn't give him any time to process the non sequitur though. She claps her hands together (something she learnt from Lydia, Liam is sure), eyes flashing blue and grin turning almost feral when she bares her fangs. "Well then. Shall we get started?"

Liam almost regrets asking for help with controlling his shift. (Not that he really _asked_ , as such; more like help was forced upon him.)

(And even if he has to spend more time with a kind of (extremely) terrifying werecoyote, the fact that the whole pack wants to help him makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside in a way he hasn't really felt before. It's nice.)


End file.
